The Funeral
by Theresa Renee
Summary: An alternative epilogue to the Harry Potter series. One-shot. Calloway is just taking care of the Three Broomstick for her mother, when a strange man who hides his face and remains silent. Who is he? What is he doing in town?


**Epilogue **

It was a snowy day, earlier that night it had been a major blizzard, but abruptly in the early morning, it had stopped, with no warning. Now it seemed that the land and it people are holding it's breath as if there is another storm coming just around the bend, while everything was waiting for its arrival.

A wizard dressed in all black formal robes, entered The Three Broomsticks in Hogmeade rather silently, with his head hung low. Calloway looked up from cleaning the three heavy glass mugs from the three Butterbeers that some teenagers from Hogwarts had bought.

She assumed that he was one of the many people that have arrived in town, for the funeral that was to be held in about a half hour. Some were strange folk but this one was strange, without sticking out. He kept a hat on as to keep his identity from those who wished to know.

Regardless Calloway did her job just as her mother, Madame Rosmerta, instructed her to do. _Take over for a bit until I get back, I have something important to do._ Her mother's voice echoing in her head. She also told her that she should prepare for a lot of customer for they were hosting the after party for the funeral. Calloway believed that she was going to that funeral. Therefore, Calloway made her way to the table, avoiding of bumping to a table that quite a few people were drinking Firewhiskey; she reached her destination at the back table.

She gave the man a smile and said, "What would you like to order?" there was silence, and awkward one at that. The man was deep in thought, his eye were looking forward of him. They were moving constantly as if he was searching for something that was not there. It was starting to freak Calloway out a little bit.

She wiped her hands on her old apron and reached forward to tap on the shoulder. She asked a little bit louder this time. "Sir, did you hear me? What would you like to order?" As soon as she placed a hand on his shoulder, he spun his head towards her, taken by surprise. She saw he had bright green eyes, ones you normally only heard about. His eyes look at her, trying to figure out what she was doing.

"I was asking your order sir," She explained "But you didn't seem to hear me. Sorry for starling you like that."

"Oh, It's alright" he said, speaking for the first time to Calloway. "Just get me a cup o' Butterbeer please."

"I'll be right back with it." She said giving him a smile. She quickly went behind the counter took the mug she had cleaned before going over to the man, placed the mug under the keg and filled it to the top. She was sure to not knock in or even go near any of the taller people, as for being smaller for her age she didn't want to be knocked into and break the mug.

She placed the mug in front of the man and took the seat across from him. She wanted to know what was going on, her mum didn't have enough time to explain what was going on before leaving so she wanted answers.

"I'm amusing that you're going to the funeral held up at Hogwarts this aft." She said to him.

He took a big gulp, almost drinking half the cup. "Yes, I'm attending."

"Then you know who it is then." She said inquiring more. "Could you tell me who, no one's told me yet?"

He took another gulp and finished the mug off. "A great man." He said. "What's the time?"

"It's about quarter to three sir." she said "but about this funeral-"

"I should be going miss, sorry." He said cutting her off. He left her watching him walk out the door and onto the streets.

The snow was already crisp, with every step the man took; he heard a slight crunch under his feet. It was all comforting really. He heard nothing around, only the crunching of the snow. It was a nice and yet eerie feeling, as if that he was the only alive in the world.

As took the last couple of steps he found himself looking at the infamous carriages that pulled or rather the ones the Thestrals pulled devotedly each beginning of the year.

They must have require their assistance with the big funeral bringing all the people from all around, that may not be able to walk far. He pulled himself up the carriage, only to see that there were other passengers on it waiting for him to fill up the last seat.

There were as many strangers and there were friends, though he did not show who he was, because he wanted to dot upon his own thoughts in silence. The carriage jumped forward, gliding over the ice hidden up the depth of the snow. It was smooth, like a natural ice path. Within fifteen minutes, the familiar castle came into view. However, the carriages did not go to the looming castle, rather slightly turned to where the majestic White Tomb and its fellow graves are located.

With a quick glance ahead the man saw that the funeral had already started, in fact it looked like it was wrapping up.

There was a very old ancient looking man, with white hair that had seemed much better colourful days. He held a piece of paper shaking in his hands as he spoke, as if he was fighting crying. He took care with every word he said, grieving with every moment passing.

"He was a great man," he continued. "One with many great accomplishments, many things to be proud of, but he was humble nonetheless. One of his wishes was to be buried, with whose who died on the day of the fight from evil times. Therefore, we grant his wish with honour and know that he found peace in life. We hope now that he finds in the afterlife and finds all its greatest treasure. He would say me to say this, and I want to say it too, we should not grieve his death but celebrate the life he had, and remember all the ways he had touched us emotionally that we will never be the same again." With that, he stepped down from the front of the crowd and went back with his family and friends.

Suddenly he saw a man with very messy red hair go on the stage. He ran his hand through his hair, showing that he was possibly nervous. "Umm" his voiced echo from the spell he was using. "Everyone should know that after everyone pays their respects that we are having a celebration in his honour at the Three Broomsticks. Everyone is invited. That is all."

Slowly starting people began to wander from their seats over to the newly buried grave and threw flower over it. White lilies happened to the choice of flowers, the man observed. He just stood behind the back row, silently waiting as people passed by him to go back to Hogmeade or go home.

Only after what seemed the elderly man and possibly his wife stood at the grave.

For the longest time, they passed on moving to the White Tomb directly beside the

grave. They both sat on the white marble bench across from the entrance of the tomb, talking to each other in low whispers and the man saw the women cheeks starting to fill with even more tears.

There was only one person left in the seats, that was one of the women in the first row, sitting there bawling her eyes out. She had long grey hair, which had hints of red hairs assorted all through her hair. She kept her head down, as almost she was trying to hide her shedding tears. She stayed there for ten minutes straight crying.

The man, assuming it was safe to see the grave by himself because the woman did not look like she was going anywhere; he finally walked towards the grave. However since he was not a very sturdy man, in fact he was on the tall side, made him to have a tendency to be very clumsy. Which in this sort of event where he wished to be silent and not seen, he bumped into one of the chair, making several others to fall over as well.

He immediately shot his head down to the ground and mumbled a sorry. The woman had looked around at him with some curiosity. Still he quickly made his way over to the grave and stood above his hands laced together. This is when the man finally let his tear shed from his face, showing the existence of his grief for the first time to the world. Without warning, the man fell to his knees, going up to the tombstone stroking where the name was etched into the stone, along with an inscription.

"Albus," he heard his name being called from behind him, it was the woman. "It's okay dear, everything will be alright." She fell to her knees beside and held him in her arms. "He wanted to die that way, peacefully in his sleep. He was in pain and you know that now in a better place as he said."

"I know Mum." The grown man said placing his head in his mother's head. "It's just so hard."

"Be happy for him, just as you want your children to be for you. Come on lets go to the Three Broomstick and see the rest of the family; everyone has missed you while you were now that business trip in the Amazon. Especially your dad."

The two walked back into the last carriage, with the elderly couple.

There in the carriage was everything that was important to the dead man's life, his friends, his wife and his children.

The tombstone had a snowflake fall on it. It read, Harry James Potter, The Boy who Lived, the Savoir from Voldemort, but more importantly, a Loyal Friend, a Devoted Husband and Loving Father. We all shall miss you and await the time we shall see you again.

The snow began to fall gently, covering the world a new again, bringing peace to grieving people's hearts.


End file.
